


Urban Farming

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Cookies, Fanart, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Rats, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: The pandemic is over, London is saved, and Jonathan needs a new hobby to keep him busy. Geoffrey finds it amusing.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a joke made in the Pembroke Hospital discord server, several months ago. I had been meaning to get around to writing it and as of last night, I did just that. Enjoy!

“What are you doing Reid?” The thickly accented voice called with the steady approach of boots on the tile floors of the morgue. It had been months since the end of the epidemic and Jonathan had taken over the morgue for his own research. He had negotiated the decision with Dr. Ackroyd, convincing him, as the temporary Administrator, that Jonathan would be able to perform his research properly through the use of rats. Of course, he only told him he was practicing new transfusion techniques on the rodents, and not the honest truth of it.

_‘It would be far more distressing if others discovered I was doing this in my office. Besides, the morgue has far more space and should they escape, it will be contained to the building.’_ He recalled the conversation. Ackroyd gave into his request, but only after Jonathan detailed every precaution, the funding which he would supply himself, along with all the necessary equipment and wouldn’t cause any problems for the hospital. He’d even pay a sizable chunk in rent if it would sooth Ackroyd’s concerns.

Since the Spanish Flu had run rampant through the districts, the morgue had been taped off and forgotten. The staff didn’t dare enter, too afraid that whatever illness had occupied the space would still be flourishing on the surfaces. That, and many of the nurses swore they had seen vagrants moving in and out of the buildings, fevered homeless and ruffians. 

Jonathan had no problem clearing the last of the skals out of the building, emptying it of the trash left behind between the epidemic and the Priwen guards that had made it an outpost until it was overrun with vampires. He was able to salvage a majority of the equipment inside and quickly turned it into his own research lab. He still slept in his office in Pembroke when the nights were long and he couldn’t make it back to the West End before dawn.

Geoffrey had made it a habit of visiting Jonathan, often in his office when he was hunched over his workbench. The last few times he had stopped by, he found the doctor missing from his room. After a quick question towards one of the staff, he was flatly informed by Dr. Ackroyd that Dr. Reid was probably in his new lab in the morgue.

This was the first time that Geoffrey had been to the basement of the building where Jonathan kept his pet project. Oftentimes, he would find the doctor upstairs examining blood samples or writing down discoveries or notes into his journals. Geoffrey was surprised, Reid made the place look classy again. Even got all the blood scrubbed off the floors and the windows properly boarded up this time.

Geoffrey didn’t look that impressed at the dozens of cages holding what appeared to be clean and well kept rats, lining the rows of what used to be where they kept the bodies. Now there were cages slotted in the spaces, easily able to be rolled out and examined. The fronts were marked in calculated order, lists and labels describing the age of the groups, their blood, their diets, etc.

“Good morning, hunter.” Jonathan called from where he was stooped over his desk feeding a large light grey rat using an eyedropper filled with a clear fluid. The little creature’s tail curled between his fingers as it wiggled and drank up the fluid. Its small paws grasped the dropper as if it were being bottle fed. It was an oddly tender sight, the relaxed but thoughtful expression on Jonathan’s face as he quietly hushed the tiny squeaks and set the rat back into its cage when he was finished. He set the dropper down and started writing down more information, pausing long enough to check his pocket watch before continuing.

“Why are you breeding rats? Are you concocting some new plague scheme now Reid?” The words were entirely teasing, laiden with genuine curiosity from the hunter. Jonathan’s nostrils flared, drawing in the scent of Geoffrey’s presence, acknowledging that he had yet to _hunt_ anything tonight except maybe a pull or two from his flask by the tiny hints of whiskey that met the air with each breath.

Jonathan looked up from his notebook and frowned at Geoffrey. As sly as the man was with a weapon, he was entirely _too_ loud when trying to pilfer honey ginger biscuits from the side drawer of Reid’s desk. Of course, they were there mainly for the rats as a small treat but that didn’t stop the amused smile that spread on his lips when he realized it worked on vampire hunters as well.

“If you must know, I’ve taken up urban farming, my dear hunter.” He reached over and swatted Geoffrey’s hand when he went for a second biscuit after putting the first between his teeth. It was gentle, a warning tap though Geoffrey still ended up with his prize and he preened with it as he meandered around the side of the desk to peruse the beakers and papers neatly stacked about. “I must eat and these are my livestock so to speak.”

“Doesn’t sound appetizing.” Geoffrey’s words were muffled as he crunched on the biscuit and dusted the crumbs from his scarf when a piece fell from his lips. He raised a playful brow at Jonathan who rolled his eyes and returned to his pets. He lifted the cage carefully and returned it to its appropriate slot, then grabbed the next round of specimens.

“I could always return to the traditional way of feeding myself. I’m sure there are enough patients who wouldn’t mind losing a few pints of blood.” Jonathan’s tone was dismissive as he set the cage on the table. The two have known each other long enough that such jokes no longer warranted a bullet in his side or a blade at his throat.

“No, no. Keep on with your rodent extermination business.” Geoffrey strutted towards another table where Reid’s chair was left sitting by his microscope. He dragged the filched piece of furniture towards Jonathan’s workspace, turned it around so he could straddle it and rest his arms on the back comfortably.

“How kind of you to allow me that.” Jonathan’s delighted tone was a mockery but his amusement brimmed under the surface as they fell into their usual habits. Geoffrey would talk, often detailing a recent patrol or some hairbrained scheme his men came up with on the spot. Or he’d ask questions, prodding for answers and explanations, soaking up information like a sponge. Were they in a different situation, Jonathan would have considered Geoffrey to be a promising pupil in the medical field. But the only kind of dissection the hunter was interested in, was when he split a vampire open on the end of his sword.

“Between the war and the epidemic, I believe you may have saved London from the secret rat scourge that was rising in the streets.” Geoffrey started around his second biscuit. His hand gesturing dramatically with his voice, growing more poetic than the actors in Doris Fletcher’s theater. “You should be proud of yourself, Reid. Maybe we can find you a rat shaped medal. For your illustrious deeds in quelling the rodent revolt that threatened London’s virtue. The businesses thank you immensely.” 

“You’re right. You do have a flair for the dramatic.” Jonathan prompted, earning a laugh from the hunter.

“You _love_ it, Reid.” Jonathan couldn’t deny the accusation. It only added to the roguish charm that entranced him to the man. Were Geoffrey an ekon, he would have stolen Jonathan’s heart with the simplest rumble of that rough voice, the roll of twisted syllables blanketed in that rich accent. No mesmerizing needed. He would fall for him on the spot, a mortal man with such a weak constitution he would turn out to be. Enchanted like a fair maiden in a cheap romance novel.

In truth, he enjoyed their cat and mouse games. The thrill of the hunt and the power that coiled in their limbs when their combat got close and they tussled in the darkened corners of the city. Strong hands grappling at worn fabric, the coarse burn of beards on bare skin, the sharper bite of teeth on each other’s lips before their tongues explore the most secretive of places. Their challenges become something carnal and desperate until they both end up in a puddle of satisfaction and relief. More often than not, on Jonathan’s bed. Though there was that one time they tried for Geoffrey’s room, but his Second walked in and Jonathan had to hide outside the window, hanging off the frame by his claws to avoid being found out. 

His undead heart hammered quickly at the reminder, a mix of mortification and excitement he hadn’t felt since he was in his youth, participating in the most scandalous secrets behind closed doors.

For all their allure, Jonathan enjoyed these days just as much as the fierce and predatory ones. The idle companionship, the comfortable silence, and easy going demeanor.

“Stop that.” Jonathan chastised when he caught Geoffrey’s hand in the biscuit drawer again. The sound of crinkling wrappers disturbed him from his revelry. He frowned at the hunter who met him with a pout. Jonathan released a long suffering sigh as those bright blue eyes gave him that pleading puppy dog look that the hunter appeared to have perfected in the last few months. “Just one.” Jonathan reminded, releasing his hold on the drawer.

Being the little shit he was, Geoffrey swiped two and leaned back quickly to avoid Jonathan’s hand pawing at his. “They were stuck together." Geoffrey blurted.

“Lies.” Jonathan barked, wagging a finger in the hunter’s direction as he aimed that devilish smile at him and Jonathan once again, was weak to the attack. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “What will I do with you?”

“I can think of a few things but I’d rather we not do it in front of an audience.” Jonathan didn’t miss the wiggle of Geoffrey’s brow or the low sultry tone that pulled at his thoughts, tempting them into something filthy and obscene. And dammit, he was looking forward to the unspoken promises in that idea.

“As much as it pains me to say it, I can’t. I need to finish this first.” Jonathan gestured at the cage in front of him.

“What are you doing anyway?” Geoffrey chomped at his biscuit and leaned back into the frame of the chair, resuming his comfortable slouch.

“I’m testing a theory.”

“About?”

“You’ve heard the phrase, _you are what you eat_ , yes?” Jonathan asked.

Geoffrey raised a brow, glancing at his biscuit as he nodded. “Aye.”

“That refers to the fact our bodies change to our dietary intake. When it comes to livestock, that means the _flavor_ profile of their bodies change. Meat, blood, organs, etc.” He waved his hand in a circle at the tail end, punctuating the point. “I’m trying to see to what extent that goes.”

“So you’re….” Geoffrey frowned at the little eyedropper Jonathan was using to feed the next group of rats, carefully holding them in hand as he calmed their squirming with tender sounds and little strokes to their heads and down their backs.

“I’m feeding them a solution of sugar and water to see if their glucose levels increase and it changes their flavor.” Jonathan explains. “I want to see how that will transfer to me and my own biology and if it will have any _peculiar_ effects.”

Geoffrey blinked, then laughed, very nearly choking on his biscuit as he stared at the doctor. The rat in his grasp didn’t like the sudden noise and wiggled free, falling back inside its cage where it plopped into the shredded newspaper lining and squeaked in irritation. “So you’re telling me you’re feeding rats sweets to see if you can get a sugar rush from eating them?”

Jonathan frowned at the frustrated animal, realizing he wouldn’t be getting it to comply now. Number 34 was a particularly stubborn subject to handle. “In the simplest terms, yes. I want to see if I can experience a sugar rush when I eat the rats.”

Geoffrey laughed, just imagining Reid as anything other than entirely composed and in control. Though, that did make him curious about if, one, vampires are capable of having sugar rushes and in the same line of thought, could they get drunk the same way? And two, what would Jonathan Reid of all people be like when hopped up and bouncing off the walls like a child after Christmas dinner, wound up on sweet desserts and candies.

“Okay, I will admit, I really want to see how this turns out.” Geoffrey leaned forward and finished off his second biscuit in a few quick bites, dusting the crumbs off his hands so they fell to the floor. Jonathan sighed, giving a shake of his head as he returned the cage to its slot and turned towards the supply closet. He returned with a broom and dustpan in hand which he thrust into Geoffrey’s hands before moving towards his notepad, jotting down the new information and the lack of success with number 34.


	2. Fanart by Tyrantwache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fanart by Tyrantwache
> 
> Thank you so much! I love the so-done look on Reid's face. He's so tired of Geoffrey's antics. Its relatable! The little rats are adorable! And Geoffrey is still a little shit. 
> 
> Please go give them love!
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/tyrantwache/art/Cookiethief-841271946


End file.
